


Cuck

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, CFNM, Chastity, Cuckolding, Denial, Dominatrix!Phasma, Established poly, F/M, Happy Poly, Humiliation, Multi, She has her boys whipped, minor breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Phasma has her night planned. Hux does not factor into it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> With permission, from [this glorious artwork](http://letmeputitinyourbutt.tumblr.com/post/146632904188/i-originally-started-this-with-the-idea-of-phasma) (NSFW).

“Look at her.”

Hux does not want to, and he also does. He _always_ wants to look at Phasma, even (maybe even just as much) when she’s wearing shiny silver war-paint. He wants to let his eyes drink in every bit of her, and read the scorn on her perfect lips and brow. Her steely-blue eyes that rake over him.

Kylo made him strip. He’s naked, standing with his arms crossed in the small of his back. He’s naked, and they’re both fully clothed. Phasma sits on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other. He looks at the sharp cut of her heels, and almost wants them to trample all over him. He might not survive it, but damn, would it be a good way to go. 

The sweep of her calves and thighs gives the lie to what sits above that, the triangle of soft heat he wants so badly to enjoy. He’s not going to, not tonight. 

Phasma already told him as much.

“I said _look_ at her,” Kylo growls, grabbing his hair and turning his face to the angle he wants. The sting in his hair is delicious, and makes his cock spark harder before him.

Kylo does not touch his cock. Phasma does not even look at his cock. She clasps her hands on one knee, the slight lean giving more oomph to cleavage that already has his balls blue and swinging. Her clothing doesn’t need to cut low or high to show anything off, he can see every curve and promise through her casual armour, and he could even if he hadn’t seen her naked. 

“He’s a very bad boy, Kylo. Don’t you think you should do something about that for me?”

“Of course,” Kylo growls, engine-low and sultry. 

Hux doesn’t know what to expect, but the gag probably wasn’t high up on the list. He’s not as vocal as his lovers, and he’s not as prone to screaming, begging, or anything like that. He’s more likely to hiss or growl, and he tries to turn his head away from it to begin with.

It’s not a matter of fear. Kylo’s perfectly capable of hearing a scream for help, and both of them are smart about physical and emotional boundaries. It’s the principle, and as his nose is pinched to force his lips open, he snorts messily and tries to fight it all the way until it’s pressing his tongue awkwardly down. The straps belt it in tight, and he works his teeth and tongue against it in annoyance.

“Very bad,” Phasma continues.

“He is.”

“I don’t trust his hands if you aren’t there to keep him still.”

“Neither do I,” Kylo agrees.

Before Hux can think about it, his arms are bent to lie parallel behind his back, wrist-to-elbow. There’s a sudden whip of rope around them, forming a tunnel that he can’t wriggle out of. It lifts up, and twists solemnly around his biceps and chest, pinning his arms down, making it impossible for him to fight. 

A tiny thrill of panic at the restraint, and he wiggles his fingers to check it’s… yep. Fine.

This wasn’t supposed to be about him.

True to the thought, Kylo walks over to Phasma, leaving him standing there, hard and bound. His eyes watch as the Knight sits beside her (almost facing Hux), a hand on her knee. It slides up and up as they turn to rub noses together, then there’s the minutest sounds of their lips meeting. He can _feel_ it against his own lips, but when he tries to move them, he remembers the gag. He’s drooling slightly around it, fighting for decorum, and he wishes he was over there, right now.

They don’t do much more than kiss and gently play with hair, but he’s _so damn desperate_ for more. He watches them act like the perfect, sweet couple they are, like they don’t have a third (inconvenient) lover just feet away, naked and gagged and bound.

Hux considers throwing himself to his knees, but he’s not that self-hating, not yet.

Kylo loves to worship Phasma, and Phasma loves to lap it up. His kisses move to her neck, to the dip below her throat. Hux can imagine his uneven teeth scraping lightly, his tongue lapping the day’s salt from her skin. 

Not seeing is somehow worse. Knowing it’s happening under that messy mop of perfect curls, hearing the flicker of Kylo’s tongue over her body. She doesn’t moan, but she does murmur praise for him, knowing he needs it as much as the other thing.

Today it’s Praise Kylo. Today it’s Shame Hux.

He sees the hand move to cup her breast through the blouse, the thumb seeking out her nipple and finding her pleasure-point. A face that vanishes into her bosom, and Hux’s cock _screams_ in hatred, wishing he could do that, instead. Wishing his face was being used, his lips able to taste, or his mouth filled with cock or clit. His nostrils flare and the drool around the gag is disgusting and messy, and he tries to shake it free, only to turn his head back and see Kylo’s hands sliding under her shirt at the waist.

Again. It’s all in what he can’t see. He can’t see the callused pads stroke heat over her soft flesh. He can’t see the way it goes paler when he pinches, or the twitches in his knuckles. He can’t see how Kylo’s whole hand engulfs her breast below the fabric, but he _knows_ , and he _fucking wants to be over there_.

Frustrated, he bleats for attention around the gag.

No one looks.

He bleats again, harder, urgent. 

He’s forced to watch as Kylo moves to kneel in front of her, pushing her blouse up to kiss and lick at her belly. The Captain’s hands delve into his hair, and pull and tug him left and right. There’s no way to see, but judging by the movement in Kylo’s shoulders, the man has a hand pushed into her panties, giving her something to grind against. 

Hux loves that. He loves the feel of her opening up, as much as Kylo opening. Kylo needs help (like he does), but her body is so welcoming and slick, and he imagines how rich she must smell near his hand, how he must be so tempted to suck and lick. 

Fingers must be inside of her, now, because his elbow is working hard. Hux imagines his knuckles ramming to the edges of her body, the way only so much can go in, and the squelch as she sighs around his digits and gets wetter with every push inside. The should-be-disgusting sound of penetration, the muscle twitches, the…

Her eyes meet his as she finds her first peak. Anger and smugness and Hux feels so very small as he watches Kylo bring her off with just one hand. She is shameless with him, shameless and so at one with her body that he envies that peace. Envies, and wants to own it, or destroy it.

Story of his life.

Her orgasm ends and she pulls Kylo away by the hair, making him fall back on his haunches. Fabric moves to bare her legs, leaving her in only the boots and blouse. One leg comes up to the couch, bent at the knee, spreading her thighs in open invitation, but not for Hux. Hux can only see where her sex _would be_ , or _is_ , but he can’t see it for himself. Can’t see her flushed pink parts, wet and happy and slightly raw. He has to deal with Kylo’s head again, and when he realises she’s pulling the Knight in for round two, he wants to scream.

Desperately, he drops to his knees. It hurts, and he nearly over-balances, but he can no longer stand. 

Phasma does not chide him.

Instead, their eyes lock as Kylo eats her out, the sound of his fat, wide tongue over her skin a symphony he hates and loves. Kylo is always so giving to them both, always so willing to pleasure everyone, and take his own bliss last. Phasma is utterly at home in her body, and willing to give or take whatever’s needed.

It’s him who is the fuck up.

Him.

Yeah.

He whimpers, despite himself, and curls slightly into himself. The slurping continues for long moments, then he hears Phasma’s voice. 

“Look at him. He’s not even able to keep it up properly. You should check he’s still working.”

“Anything,” Kylo agrees, and then turns around and crawls on his hands and knees to where Hux is sitting on his own. 

Lips that have just licked her most intimate places snuffle under his nose, pushed into his belly, making his cock spring up again as if it never flagged. He’s such a needy little bitch, isn’t he?

“Looks okay to me,” Kylo tells her.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

How?

Hux wishes he had never let it get to him. Kylo comes back with several metal toys, and one of them is a nice little cockring of silver, finished with a padlock. He whines despite himself as Kylo clamps it on, sealing it snugly around the base of his shaft and balls, making them fall above it. The pressure is not enough to get off to, but enough to keep him _from_ getting off. He’s nearly crying when there’s a cold slap to his ass, and he finds himself pushed forwards onto his shoulders, his chin hitting the ground, his ass in the air. No hands to support himself, and the angle cranes him terribly, but the sudden cold, cold chill up his spine as a small toy fucks at his ass with measured gestures is more than enough.

It’s only a small plug, but it will tug at his hole and remind him how empty he is. Remind him that he wishes Kylo was there, or Phasma’s fingers, or a toy. She likes to make them both sit on an end of one, and pump it between them. He’s never fully understood why she’s so into that, but he always gets off hard when his ass is touched, and maybe that’s why this all works so well.

He’s not sure he understands any of the dynamics, or how to know what’s going to happen each day. It’s always different, and that’s wonderful.

Right now, the toy is nudged into him until it’s at its widest point, and then it snapclicks into place, leaving his ass not-quite-full-enough. Plugged against use. Stoppered up. Maker.

“He won’t get soft or come now,” Kylo tells her, rising and walking over. 

She keeps her leg up, and both men watch as she touches herself in front of them. She circles and rubs hard at her clit, harder than they would normally dare, then strokes lower. She pulls her lips apart, then uses the other hand to finger herself roughly.

Hux really, _really_ wishes he could do that.

Even Kylo is entranced, and for long moments it’s just a beautiful show. Just a woman who knows how her body works, and is unashamed to let them see. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks.

It must be Kylo she means.

“Very much so.”

“Put him on the bed. I want him to know what he’s missing.”

Kylo grabs the bindings with one hand, the other sliding under Hux’s thighs. He lifts him without a hitch, then carries him where she’s ordered. Hux wants to hump at thin air, but then he’s laid down gently and left face-down on the bed.

“No. Upwards.”

He’s spun, but with the Force. He lands on his arms and it hurts, so he arches his back, using heels and ass to alleviate some of the pressure. Then it doesn’t matter at all, because Phasma has taken off her shirt, and she crawls over him like he’s her dinner. 

Her eyes glitter with predatory intent, her breasts hanging below her as a promise when they skirt over his chest. She comes to a halt, lifted from him. He can almost feel her wetness, and his bound cock begs for the chance to sink into her. Even if he couldn’t climax, it would be worth it for the sensation.

Instead, Kylo undresses. He kneels up behind her, and Hux knows they’re going to fuck on top of him. He’s going to have to watch, and feel the bed shake around him. His butt presses down, desperate for more pressure inside in case he can get off from touches to his prostate, but it’s worth nothing when a hand grabs his throat.

“He’s going to fuck me, because you can’t,” she says, as she pushes down and makes breathing hard. “He’s going to fuck me full, and then I’m going to drip it all over you. Wipe my cunt clean on your belly. I’m going to leave you hard, and wanting.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fcuckfcuckfuckffcuck.

She swings forwards when he penetrates her, his hands on her hips and his cock in her walls. 

Hux can imagine both. He can imagine putting his dick inside of her, or feeling Kylo’s member stretch him. Both. Both sound so good. The plug isn’t nearly wide or long enough, and his cock stretches over his belly, praying for the brush of her stomach as she rocks with his thrusts.

Kylo can do gentle, and Kylo can do hard. It’s hard he’s doing now, his own frustrated lust driving him into her with abandon. Her hips twist and bend, her body bowing to meet and resist, and Hux is going insane with it all.

The hand around his throat doesn’t let up, making the world slightly grey and fuzzy, but the blood in his prick won’t abate. He’s so fucking hard and he can’t do anything about it but suffer, the position murder on his shoulders and arms, and if they don’t let him up soon he won’t have circulation in them all night. 

Slap. Slap. Slapslapslapslap. Kylo’s pounding gets fiercer, and Hux keens through the gag, head turned away. It’s left there, ashamed of itself, as Kylo’s climax draws closer. Slap. SLAP. **SLAP.**

Skin on skin, sin on sin, and then there’s a cry from the Knight as he finishes inside of her. 

Phasma wastes no time. She climbs up to sit on his gagged face, dripping through the holes in the ball gag into his mouth. Hux is in hell, and he feels her rub her clit to her next climax, feels her pulsing push more of their mingled juices into his mouth. All he can do is swallow, and then she climbs off and goes to the ‘fresher.

Kylo looks between them, torn, but he gently eases Hux onto his side before he leaves him. Hux’s wrists are grateful, even if he’s crying. 

The Knight takes pity on him, dropping lower to unclasp the ring. It’s not that that’s the problem, though, even as the man sucks him roughly and enthusiastically. 

It’s not that when he comes in his mouth, or when he collapses into the bed.

Kylo glances away again, and then starts the job of untying his arms and wrists. Hux whimpers, choking on the gag. It’s pulled out, and he pushes his face into Kylo’s body.

“ _No more_ ,” he begs. No more.

The plug comes out, and then he’s scooped up against Kylo’s chest. He’s too broken to even hold on, but he’s grateful when he’s taken into the shower along with Phasma. He feels so small as they bathe each other, and him. So small and insignificant, but the kind words and loving hands piece him back together.

Ashamed, he takes the comfort. He knows he needs this, but it doesn’t make it easy to accept, all the same. 

Back to the bed, and he’s snuggled between them both. Hands that comb over his skin, lips that tell him he’s loved in words and deeds. He shudders, beyond his own tongue, and allows their affections inside.

When he finally lets the last of the fears go, he’s free.


End file.
